“Baby, I have to agree with Chavonne. You can’t cook for s**t,” Cicely answered, passing
the salad around. They cooked a big barbeque feast of ribs, burgers, hot dogs, spaghetti, lemon
cake, baked beans, and green beans.
“Kam—” Essence started to ask, and Kamden held his palm up, stopping her.
“Essence, I’d prefer to stay on your good side,” Kamden said.
Essence jumped up, grabbed her mashed potatoes, and stomped off toward the house.
“See what y’all did. Now I have to hear this for the rest of the week,” I spat.
“At least you don’t have to eat it,” Reece joked.
“Reece!” I cackled at her joke.
Fifteen minutes later, Essence came back and sat.
“Sorry, friend,” I said, getting up and walking over to whisper in her ear.
“You’re good.” Essence sighed.
“You must have tasted it,”
